Poet to Poet - Journal entry

Finding trails
through the darkness …

Finding trails
within the poetry …

Finding strength

Finding purpose

Finding philosophy

Finding jazz

Finding ways
to unleash the night
within a poem /
within a dance /
within an image
captured
by a lens … and a lensmith's mind



She wore a dress
that clung
like a scent
to her body

braless
pantie less
in heels … no nylons

waiting
for the lens

waiting
for a poem

waiting
for an image
or a fantasy
or a desire
to star within …

and finding one
at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe …


~


The homeless
speak
of tomorrow
as if tomorrow
is dead, and yesterday
leapfrogged
over the hours
of today


~


Music
soothes
the madness
inside me

Music
calms,
and centers,
and focuses

Music
becomes candlelight

and candlelight
becomes music



There are answers
hiding
in the night

Answers
hiding
between the candlelight
and the jazz … between the jazz
and the wine … and somewhere
within the words
I'm writing here
to you … answers
and poems … answers
and philosophies … answers
and directions
on how to accept
the direction
of our minds



Oh Poet … it's been so long /
(so very long)


It's hard
to even remember


Where
do the soldiers go
when they tire of the war?

Where
do the poets go
when they tire of the war?



Where
do we go
when we need to hide
and be still?



Thoughts
find us
everywhere



Madness
finds us
everywhere


The ticking
of tomorrow
finds us
everywhere


Life
lived
on stage, whispering lines
loud enough for an audience
to hear

Life
lived
on stage … like the strangeness
of removing a wall
from existence
and looking inside


~



Coltrane

Ellington … "Far East Suite"

Miles

Monk

Mingus




(we do need
to chase tomorrow / we do need
to dance /
we do need
to understand
that there is
no hiding
from our thoughts … from our ideas …
from our fantasies, and our desires …

there is
no exit door
illuminated
in accordance
with local fire ordinances … no exit door
free
of barriers
and trash … no exit door
understanding messages
left
on machines … when we decide
to seek / when we decide
to think / when we decide
to write,
exit doors
seal
and are lost
forever … bridges
burn … trails
slide off mountainsides
and are lost
to those sitting at the coffee shop
at the edge of the universe.

I must close now, poet.

~
SAS